“What’s bugging you, Lark?” Caspian asked, glancing at her sideways.

She let out a frustrated groan. “Is there anything you can’t do?”

He grinned. “Dancing. I already told you that. Ambrose tried once. Gave up and told me I was hopeless, suggested I stick to swaying in circles. I mean, I can sing, play piano like a pro, and I’m pretty athletic. I could bench-press three of you while half asleep. But dancing? Nope, I’m trash at ...